


5 & 1/2 Minute Hallway

by track_04



Series: Hallway Verse [1]
Category: Arashi (Band), Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-26
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 17:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/track_04/pseuds/track_04
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Absence sharpens love, presence strengthens it.</i> ~ Thomas Fuller</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dedicated to catacombkid, nanyakanya and mitsuchan, without whom it never would have happened. Title taken from [the Poe song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bA3ns_G_OIo) of the same name.

Ohno had always thought that when the time finally came for him to move out on his own, that he’d either be doing it alone or, maybe, with a wife. The last thing he’d expected was to move out of his family’s home and in with a roommate, and one that he’d never met before or even known about beforehand. However, he'd learned a long time ago that life is often unexpected, and that if you learned to roll with the punches you ended up taking a lot fewer hits.

It was a Thursday in late October when he moved, sunny and unseasonably warm for that late in the year. He could feel the beginning of sweat around the collar of his jacket as he arrived at his new home, a box under one arm and a duffle bag slung over the opposite shoulder. The building was older but still in good condition, the carpeting in the hallway woven with an intricate pattern that had probably been stylish at one point, but had worn down slowly over the years. The hallways had that lived-in smell that most buildings its age had, of baked fish and bread and lemon scented disinfectant, old enough to have personality without the unpleasant, stale musk that older building tended to have. It was the type of building that families lived in when they were just starting out, or that parents retired to after their children had married and moved on, or that young, single career men and women stayed in while they were working their way up the corporate ladder.

Ohno was none of the above, really, but he’d gotten a deal on the rent that actually put it in his less than impressive price range, so he couldn’t really complain.

The air in the apartment smelled slightly stale, the smell a place got when it had been shut up and unlived in for too long. He wrinkled his nose as he shut the door behind him, his box of belongings balanced precariously on his hip as he fumbled his way inside. A line of shoes occupied the shelf just inside the door, lined up in a neat, evenly spaced rows, as if awaiting their owner’s return. They all looked expensive, like the shoes that he’d seen in the fashion magazines that teenage girls were always flipping through excitedly on trains. They were the type of shoes that belonged on the feet of a top executive or a host in Roppongi, not sitting on an ordinary shoe rack, collecting dust.

Ohno sat his box down in the entry and slipped off his own battered tennis shoes, feeling slightly embarrassed for them as he lined them up along the bottom shelf, as far away from the other shoes as he could manage.

“… who are you?”

Ohno straightened, startled, and turned to see an unfamiliar man staring at him, arms crossed over his chest, eyes full of suspicion. “Ohno Satoshi.”

“Ohno. What are you doing in my apartment?” The man furrowed his brows a little, and Ohno could practically see the need for politeness and the need to establish order warring inside him. The man didn’t say anything more, just stood there giving him an expectant look, and Ohno assumed it meant that politeness had won out.

“I live here?” Ohno blinked, wondering for a brief moment if he hadn’t managed to wander into the wrong apartment. He held up the key that he still had clutched in one hand and motioned to the box in front of him helpfully.

“My mother sent you, didn’t she?” The man frowned and crossed his arms over his chest as he shot a cross look over Ohno’s shoulder. “I don’t need someone here to watch me. I’m fine.”

“Your mother…,” Ohno repeated, his voice trailing off as his eyes widened in realization. “You’re Jun?”

“Yes,” Jun answered, pursing his lips as he turned his glare on Ohno. “And this is my apartment.”

“Ah, she told me,” Ohno answered, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “But I didn’t think you were living here still… she made it sound like it was vacant.”

“It’s not.”

“Oh… sorry,” Ohno mumbled, shuffling from one foot to the other in the entryway as an awkward silence fell between them. He wished now that he’d paid more attention when his mother had talked about Matsumoto-san in the past; at least then he would have had some idea of what was going on. He remembered something about her son having an accident sometime back, but it was something his mother hadn’t talked much about, except to say how sorry she felt for the other woman, and it wasn’t exactly something that he could just ask Matsumoto-san herself about.

The amount of rent he was paying for a fully furnished apartment in a nice neighborhood made more sense now, though.

“I don’t need someone to look after me.”

“… I can go,” Ohno offered, bending over to retrieve his shoes. It would have been nice to live here and not have to commute the extra hour and a half to work every day, but he couldn’t really stay here when it was already someone else’s home. Especially when that someone very obviously hadn’t know about the new living arrangements and didn’t want him here.

“Wait,” Jun mumbled, and Ohno looked up to find the other watching him, his expression shifting from defensive to uncertain. “It’s not your fault. My mother just—I’m sure she meant well.”

Ohno nodded, not quite sure how to comment. Family problems weren’t really something he was used to dealing with; he’d never really seen any point in arguing with his own mother.

“I don’t need someone to look after me,” Jun repeated, his words sounding a bit weaker, less certain as he pursed his lips and gave Ohno a look that was meant to be disinterested, but came across as anything but. “But I hate breaking a promise, even if I’m not the one that made it. You seem quiet enough. Stay out of my room and don’t touch my things, and I guess you can stay.”

Ohno nodded and gave Jun a slight smile which the other, surprisingly, returned. And that was how life in his new apartment began.

\--

“I’m going,” Ohno called out as he slipped into his shoes, his sketchbook and an apron that Jun had insisted he buy (apparently being a cook didn’t justify coming home covered in food) tucked inside a bag and slung over one shoulder.

“Come back soon,” he heard Jun’s voice answer as he slipped into the hallway and locked the door behind him. Two weeks living with his new roommate, and he found himself enjoying it a lot more than he’d thought he would. Jun could be a bit pushy sometimes, but he was clean and quiet, and they both liked having the company—even if Jun would never admit it.

Ohno was smiling to himself as he stopped beside the elevator, a man who looked to be around his age waiting beside him, clutching at the handle of a battered briefcase. He turned to nod at Ohno, his expression friendly as the elevator doors opened before them, and they climbed inside together.

“You’re new here?” The man asked as he hit the button for the lobby, and the elevator lurched into motion beneath them.

“Yeah. Ohno Satoshi,” Ohno answered, bowing his head slightly as he smiled at the other man, a smile which the other man returned. It was a nice change to see someone looking so open and friendly, when all the other neighbors that he’d run across so far had been either too busy or too standoffish to offer much more than a quick nod acknowledging his presence or a quickly muttered “hello”.

“Sakurai Sho.” He thrust his hand out between them and Ohno took it, shaking it with a soft laugh. “I live in 405.”

“Really? I live in 404.” Ohno smiled, the surprise clear in his voice. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen you before now.”

“404,” Sho repeated, his voice sounding slightly strained. “Ah… I have to go out of town on business a lot. I hadn’t even realized they were renting out 404.”

“They aren’t, really. I’m just subletting until I find a place of my own,” Ohno answered with a slight smile. “I moved in two weeks ago.”

“Oh… well, welcome to the building, Ohno-san,” Sho murmured as the elevator jerked to a stop. He gave another slight bow to Ohno before he turned and hurried off the elevator, but not fast enough for Ohno to miss the distinct look of discomfort that he wore.

Ohno let out a soft “hm” as he stepped out into the lobby, making a mental note to ask Jun about their neighbor later.

\--

The first time Jun laid eyes on Sho was the day the other was moving into his apartment.

It was the middle of summer, and the air conditioning had gone out in half the building, making its inhabitants crankier than usual, a crankiness which even curiosity over a new neighbor couldn’t shake. The people in the building weren’t exactly that neighborly or pleasant in Jun’s experience, but like any building they had their resident gossip network, taking the form of a handful of older women who had no jobs, no children at home, and no hobbies to speak of. They reminded Jun of the woman who’d watched over him and his sister when they were children and their parents had decided to have the odd evening out—gray headed and full of politeness and smiles even as she pumped you for information that she’d readily spill to her friends over the phone the first chance she got.

The suffocating heat and high tempers filling the building were enough to kill the curiosity for once, though, and there were none of the usual busy bodies loitering around, trying to catch a glimpse of the newest tenant as the boxes started to slowly pile up outside of apartment 405.

Jun, for one, was not really curious about the new neighbor (or neighbors) at all, aside from hoping that he, she, or they didn’t track mud all over the hall carpeting like the last one had. He’d never even learned the last neighbor’s name, not even after two years of sharing an apartment wall and smelling each other’s cooking smells through said wall. He’d just been The Neighbor, someone that Jun had nodded at in the elevator or exchanged the occasional, awkward greeting with while getting his mail.

He hadn’t, therefore, expected to be curious, of all things, about The Neighbor’s replacement. Nevertheless, that is exactly what he found himself being, and all it took was one small, innocent smile.

It happened while Jun was heading out for a mid-morning meeting with his publisher, the pages of his current project tucked neatly inside his Italian leather briefcase as he tried to slide around the movers and stacks of boxes and furniture currently blocking the hallway. He’d already been feeling a bit sweaty and cross from lack of sleep when he’d stepped outside, and having to maneuver his way around boxes and tall, sweaty men without mussing his perfectly pressed slacks wasn’t helping the situation.

He could feel himself frowning by the time he made it to the end of the obstacle course that was currently his hallway, already looking forward to the air conditioning awaiting him in his car. He was so focused on said air conditioning that he very nearly missed his first glance at his new neighbor, but his eyes happened to slide over to the other man's face at the last second.

The new neighbor was a young man, probably around Jun’s age, whose hair had gone just a bit too long between cuts and whose face was in need of a good shave. He was wearing an old tshirt, the lettering on the front of it long faded, the material hugging his chest and stomach as it trailed down into his tattered jeans. He was standing outside the door to his new apartment with his keys clutched in one hand, brows furrowed in frustration as he very obviously searched for the one that would open the door in front of him.

It was the weariness in his expression and the fact that he _looked_ exactly how Jun _felt_ that made him hesitate for just a second, a second long enough for the man to look up and meet his eyes and smile, a smile that was as genuine as the soft “good morning” that accompanied it. It wasn’t forced or polite like Jun had grown used to, despite the heat and the almost claustrophobic press of boxes around them in the hallway and the other’s obvious frustration over not being able to find the right key.

Jun nodded and offered his own smile back as he passed, the first spark of curiosity about the other taking hold of him. It wasn’t that there was anything that striking about his new neighbor, really. He looked like your typical 20 something professional, handsome in that average sort of way, the type of person that might earn a second glance on the train but not a third; the type of person you saw everywhere but didn’t really stop to think about. If it hadn’t been for the smile, Jun probably wouldn’t have thought twice about him, but something in the smile was so friendly and genuine that he couldn’t help but steal a backwards glance at the other as he pressed the button for the elevator.

He had time later that day to reflect on just how stupid it all was, and how lonely he must be for something like a smile to get to him like that, but by that time it was already too late.

\--

One of the first things that Ohno learned about Jun was that he knew food. It happened quite by accident, when Ohno was slicing vegetables to go with the quick dinner of chahan he was making for himself, and Jun commented on the way he was holding his knife.

“If you change the angle on your knife you’ll be able to make a cleaner cut using less force.”

“Like this?” Ohno shifted the knife between his fingers then looked to Jun for approval.

“No, more like this…,” Jun reached out to adjust the knife, but jerked away just before touching Ohno, pulling his hand back to himself. “…a little more to the left.”

Ohno changed the angle and Jun eyed it before nodding slowly, without reaching out to try to correct him again.

One of the second things Ohno learned about Jun was that he didn’t like to be touched. Anytime he came close to touching Ohno, or to Ohno touching him, he’d shy away, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable and slightly apprehensive all at once. It didn’t take Ohno long to learn how to move around the apartment without getting into Jun’s space and, even if the other didn’t comment on it, he started to look more relaxed whenever they were in the same room together.

For his part, Jun didn’t mind if Ohno stayed up to all hours of the morning painting as long as he didn’t get anything on the carpet, and didn’t leave paint brushes in the sink, or use the good towels to wipe up his spills. He even commented on Ohno’s work when he saw it, the kind of honest comments that held praise or criticism or both, depending-- the kind of comments that Ohno respected.

All-in-all they were well suited for each other.

Jun was currently standing next to the island in their kitchen, watching Ohno chop vegetables and offering the occasional suggestion as to how he might do a better job. Ohno just nodded and followed them, not one to take easy offense.

They had a system worked out when it came to meals. Since Jun was working from home he ate at odd hours, but he always kept Ohno company in the kitchen (and Ohno always made extra for him, even if it wasn’t really needed) while he cooked and gave advice on a dish when needed. Ohno never bothered to point out that he cooked everyday for a living—he was just an apprentice at a run of the mill family restaurant, afterall, and not the chef at somewhere high class. Jun, on the other hand, had been working at a rather well-known food magazine since he’d graduated high school and knew food like the back of his hand. He also seemed to be incredibly picky, if the way he talked was any indication. Ohno wasn’t, a fact which had seemed to annoy Jun at first, until he realized that Ohno was willing to follow any suggestions he gave him while cooking, a fact which appeased him enough to ignore the other’s seeming lack of taste buds.

Ohno liked the company when he cooked and, even if he wouldn’t admit it, he knew that Jun liked being able to talk to someone after an entire day spent cooped up in the apartment alone. Ohno was really Jun’s only company; he never had friends over as far as Ohno knew, or even his family. He never seemed to get phone calls, either, and the way he talked gave Ohno the impression that things weren't much different when Jun was home alone. It wasn’t something that Jun ever seemed to want to talk about openly, though, aside from the occasional off handed comment here or there, so Ohno made a point not to ask. They had enough to talk about, anyway, so it didn’t seem worth the hassle.

“I met one of the neighbors today,” Ohno commented, his voice soft as he slid a plate of pasta across the counter in front of Jun before grabbing one of his own and taking a seat.

“Hm, I’m surprised they talked to you,” Jun mumbled as he ran a finger along the edge of the plate. "They're not very friendly."

“It was a young guy—Sho. He said he lived next door,” Ohno mumbled around a mouthful of pasta. “Seems friendly.”

“Yeah.” Jun stiffened almost imperceptibly at the other’s words, his shoulder’s pulling back as he made a point not to look at Ohno.

Ohno chewed his pasta slowly, his face thoughtful. “He said he didn’t know they were renting the apartment.”

Jun snorted, the sound soft and humorless. “I guess he wouldn’t. _I_ didn’t even know.”

“Hm, true,” Ohno mused, not missing the way Jun’s mouth curled downwards into the beginnings of a frown. “Do you think we should invite him over for dinner sometime? He seems like a nice guy.”

“No.” Jun’s head snapped upwards, his expression a strange mixture of hurt and apprehension as he met Ohno’s eyes. “We shouldn’t.”

Ohno blinked, his fork poised in midair as he studied Jun’s face. The expression he wore now was eerily similar to the one that Sho had worn that morning on the elevator, after he’d found out which apartment Ohno was living in. “Okay.”

“You can be friends with him if you want,” Jun mumbled as he slid out of the chair, shaking his head as he walked away. “But don't invite him here. I don't want a bunch of people traipsing through the apartment.”

\--

Sho and Jun's first official meeting was over a cup of sugar.

It was a typical Monday evening. Sho was trying to pretend he was enjoying his slightly over-cooked TV dinner and lukewarm beer as he went over the financial section in the newspaper, when he was interrupted by an unexpected knock on his door.

He set the dinner aside, secretly grateful for the interruption and incredibly curious as to who it could be. He hadn’t buzzed anyone into the building and, really, no one besides his mother and younger brother and sister ever visited him at home. He still had some friends from University and High School, but most of them were married or working full time like himself and, well, once you grew up you really didn’t have the free time to spend dropping by unexpectedly at friends’ apartments.

“Hello?” Sho opened the door and peeked out into the hall, blinking owlishly at the unfamiliar young man standing in front of him. He looked like he’d stepped out of one of those fashion magazines Sho’s sister was always carrying around with her.

“Hi. Matsumoto Jun.” The stranger bowed slightly, his dark hair falling in front of his eyes. He had a strong face, for lack of a better description, all cheekbones and full lips and big, dark eyes. It was pretty in an odd way, not entirely masculine, but not really feminine, either, and Sho found himself wanting a closer look, a chance to see all those planes and angles in a different light.

“Sakurai Sho,” Sho found himself answering with an automatic bow, the forced politeness of the business world already so deeply ingrained that it was more reflex than planned action. He flushed a little as he straightened, hoping he didn’t come off as too formal.

The man—Jun—nodded, his smile widening a little as he lifted an empty measuring cup and held it out with a slightly embarrassed look. “I live in 404—the next door down.” He motioned towards his door, the action almost nervous. It seemed somehow out of place to Sho, but he was too polite to comment. He barely knew this man. 5 seconds of acquaintance didn’t really give him the right to pass judgment on whether nervousness fit him or not. “I saw you moving in a few days ago and I wanted to introduce myself, but I haven’t had a chance until now.”

“Oh… thanks,” Sho mumbled, smiling a little at the sentiment. “You’re the first, actually—the first neighbor to introduce yourself. Everyone seems to keep to themselves here.”

“They do,” Jun laughed lowly, the sound soft, but sincere enough to make Sho’s smile widen. “That’s why I thought I’d welcome you to the building.”

“Thanks,” Sho repeated, pushing the door open wider and taking a step to the side. “Do you want to come in? I was just having dinner, but I have an extra beer in the fridge if you’d like one.”

“No,” Jun answered almost instantly, and Sho couldn’t help but wince. “I mean—no, that sounded awful. I’d love to have a beer sometime, but I’m in the middle of baking cookies at the moment.”

“Cookies?” Sho asked, more than a little intrigued. He wouldn’t have imagined Jun the type to bake cookies. He looked more like the type to buy expensive cakes at high-end department store bakeries or, judging by his size, to avoid sweets entirely.

“They’re you’re welcome gift,” Jun admitted with a laugh, the sound a bit louder and even more embarrassed this time. He cleared his throat and held up the empty measuring cup he had clutched in his right hand. “I seem to be out of sugar, though… you wouldn’t happen to have a cup I could borrow, would you?”

Sho blinked, looking down at the cup and then up at Jun’s face before he broke into soft laughter. He nodded and motioned the other inside. “I think I could spare a cup. That’s what neighbors do, right?”

“I guess so.” Jun echoed Sho’s laughter as he toed off his shoes and stepped up into the other’s apartment, letting the door swing closed behind him.

\--

“Ohno… can you get the door?”

Ohno nodded and pulled himself off the couch, remembering halfway to the door that Jun couldn't see a nod from his room. “Sure.”

He pulled open the door to find an unfamiliar face staring back at him. “Matsumoto Jun?”

“He’s in his room,” Ohno answered, frowning just slightly at the stranger. The man was the same height as Ohno but his frame was smaller, his features almost delicate. Looks-wise, he was one of the most non-threatening people Ohno had ever met, but something about him made Ohno’s skin itch, made him shift from foot to foot like a three year old being forced to wait in line with his mother in the grocery store with the candy display just out of reach.

“Oh.” The stranger blinked, something that looked like a cross between confusion and surprise flashing in his eyes before he expression shifted into a more neutral smile. “I’m here to see him. Is it alright if I come in?”

Ohno nodded and stepped aside, shivering a little as the other brushed past him.

The man slipped off his shoes and stepped into their apartment, moving around it with an ease that most people didn’t have in the home of a complete stranger. By the time Ohno had shut the door behind them and followed him inside, the other man had was already sitting on their couch, slumped against the cushions and leaning casually against the arm rest like an old friend. “Can you go tell Jun I’m here?”

Ohno blinked, smiling a little in spite of himself. Whoever this was, he liked him. “Sure.”

“My name’s Nino,” the other man called after him, laughing a little. It was only then that Ohno realized he hadn’t known his name.

\--

The first time that Sho came over for dinner it was a completely insignificant Thursday evening. He’d spent the day sitting at his desk or in meetings, doing his usual work. The only thing that made it different from a normal Thursday evening was the stop he’d made at the liquor store on the way home and the fact that he was now standing in front of Jun’s door and not his own.

Sho glanced down at the slightly faded gold numbering on the door in front of him as he lifted his hand to knock once, twice, the sound abrupt in the otherwise silent hallway. He swallowed and dropped his hand, glancing around the hall, half-afraid that someone was going to stick their head out of their door and tell him to stop being so loud. He’d already had the old woman who lived on the other side of him corner him in the elevator and give him a thinly veiled scolding over the volume of his TV and, consequently, his choice of TV programs, and he wasn’t looking forward to another one.

Sho jumped as he heard a door open, his face sheepish as he realized that it was the door in front of him.

“Oh, Sho. You’re early.” Jun smiled out at him, a dish towel slung over one shoulder and his hair pinned to the side rather inartistically. He opened the door wide and stepped to the side, motioning the other inside.

“I am?” Sho glanced down at his watch as he stepped past the other and into the entranceway, frowning as he reached down to untie his shoes. “I’m sorry… I left work early to pick up some wine and I didn’t think I’d get here this fast. The train is almost always late or I end up missing it… should I go home and come back later?”

“No, you’re fine,” Jun insisted, laughing softly as he shut the door behind him, his face amused as he watched Sho struggling to unlace his shoes one handed, the other currently busy clinging to a bottle of wine. “Do you want me to take that?”

“Oh… yes. Thanks.” Sho handed him the wine, flashing him a nervous grin that showed too many teeth. “I got wine to go with dinner. I wasn’t sure what to get, but the woman at the store said that that would go well with pasta. You like wine, right? I should have asked if you drank….”

“I like wine,” Jun butted in, his lips moving silently as he turned the bottle over in his hand and read the label. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Sho grinned, his posture relaxing a little at the other’s reassurance. Jun was smiling at him, his lips curling upward just enough to show off the mole below his bottom lip, a mole that Sho hadn’t noticed the first time they’d met or any of the times they’d talked while waiting for the elevator or crossing paths in the hallway. He flushed slightly as he realized he was staring and looked away quickly, busying himself with straightening his shoes against the wall, his hands wandering idly over to do the same for several pairs of Jun’s.

Jun laughed silently to himself and reached down, touching Sho’s arm gently as he inclined his head toward the kitchen. “Come on. I’ll put the wine on to chill, and you can help me chop mushrooms for the sauce. You can use a knife, right?”

“Well enough to chop mushrooms.” Sho nodded, a small, unconscious smile on his lips as Jun lead him toward the kitchen, his hand still resting lightly against Sho’s upper arm.

\--

There was currently a staring contest going on in Jun’s living room involving himself and the stranger-- Nino, according to Ohno-- sitting on their couch.

Jun crossed his arms over his chest, unwilling to be the first to relent as he stared at the other—much smaller, he was quick to note—man, his lips drawn into a thin line. He wasn’t sure _why_ his mother had suddenly decided after so many months that he needed someone to talk to about what had happened. He would have thought the fact that she’d found him a roommate without so much as consulting him would have been enough. If anything, Ohno was the better spy—he was living here.

Then again, Ohno didn’t exactly strike him as the type to make a very good spy. He was observant enough, but it was hard to imagine him actually having the energy to report anything he found out. Maybe there was a reason this strange little man was sitting on the couch across from him, smiling an infuriating, knowing smile at him, afterall.

The man shifted and broke Jun’s gaze, the corners of his lips still curled into a smirk as he reached into his pocket to produce a pack of playing cards, stealing glances at Jun beneath his bangs as he started to shuffle them.

Jun huffed, finally fed up enough to break the silence. “You’re not very good at this, are you?”

“I wouldn’t call myself a professional, but I’m not exactly a novice, either,” the man answered, his smirk widening as he leaned forward and reached behind Jun’s ear, pulling his hand back to reveal the two of hearts clutched between his fingers. “Besides, what I lack in technique I make up for with my winning personality.”

“I didn’t mean your card tricks,” Jun mumbled, frowning as he looked away. “If my mother sent you here to spy on me you’re not very good at it.”

“She didn’t,” the man answered with a slight shrug, slipping the card back into the deck before he started shuffling again. “You just assumed that.”

“If my mother didn’t send you, then what the hell are you doing here?” Jun asked, in no mood to put up with word games. It had been hard enough adjusting to having Ohno in his apartment after spending so many months alone, and he _liked_ Ohno. Having some stranger come barging in, insisting that he was here on business—the business of prying into Jun’s business and taking up time that Jun could spend actually _working_ , no doubt--was nearly unbearable.

“I told you already, I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t need help,” Jun mumbled, voice and posture defensive. “So, you’re what, supposed to by my therapist? I don’t need one.”

The soft sound of the cards sliding against each other was enough to set Jun’s nerves on edge. “I prefer to think of myself as an assistant more than a therapist. I help you help yourself.”

Jun rolled his eyes and shifted, glaring openly at the other, the way he was slumped against the back of their couch, seemingly oblivious to Jun’s displeasure, only serving to irritate him more. “An assistant? I don’t need one of those, either.”

“You haven’t left your apartment since last spring.” The man’s response was enough to make Jun flinch, his soft, matter-of-fact tone and the fact that he already knew more about Jun than Jun knew about him just off-putting enough to override Jun’s anger over the whole situation. He kept shuffling the cards, the soft sound of them moving from hand to hand the only sound to fill the silence between them. Eventually, he chose to break it, lifting his eyes to met Jun’s. “I think you need something. You’re just afraid to ask for help.”

“I’m not afraid,” Jun answered automatically, breaking the other’s gaze to stare down at his lap, thoughts of friends and family members flitting across his mind before he effectively quashed them. “And I don’t need help.”

Jun heard the shrug more than saw it, his eyes still fixed on his lap, refusing to look up at the stranger across from him. He was too afraid of actually letting his doubt show on his face if he did. “Don’t you think it’s about time to put an end to this?”

“I’m _fine_. Besides, it’s not like having you around is going to make any difference,” Jun mumbled, forcing a heat into his voice that was a little less than convincing.

Nino shrugged, unaffected by the hostility in Jun’s voice. “Then I guess it won’t make a difference if I stick around. My boss is a real stickler about me putting in a certain number of hours with each of my cases.”

“Fine, but I’m not talking to you.”

“Fine with me,” the man answered, sounding entirely too proud of himself.

Jun decided that he didn’t like this man, even more than he disliked the knot of worry that he could feel forming in the pit of his stomach at this whole conversation.

\--

The first time Sho and Jun went out together was a complete disaster. Sho had taken his time and planned out the perfect evening, going so far as to coordinate his outfit down to his socks and make a rough list of possible conversation topics, which he read over as he rode the train home from work that evening.

Not that he told Jun any of this, of course, since this was a friendly get together and most certainly not a _date_ , and those were not the types of thing that you did for a simple friendly get together.

They didn’t much matter, though, as all of Sho’s carefully laid plans fell through once they arrived at the bar he’d chosen and found it full of loud, drunken salarymen.

“Sorry about that,” Sho mumbled once they’d fled said bar after an embarrassingly short period of time. His face was sheepish as he kept pace with Jun, their footsteps echoing quietly against the pavement as they did their best to avoid the crowds of drunken salarymen stumbling out of bars after a night spent celebrating another day of work over and done with.

“About what?” Jun looked up, his eyes curious and posture relaxed as he ignored a group of revelers stumbling past them and let himself enjoy the balmy springtime air.

“The bar,” Sho answered, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s usually a lot quieter in there. I didn’t realize there was a game tonight or we could have gone somewhere else.”

Jun laughed, the sound light and happy as he gave Sho a disbelieving look. “It was the 7th game of the championship series, Sho.”

Sho blinked, his face confused. “Wait… seriously?”

“You don’t follow a lot of baseball, do you?” Jun chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“No,” Sho admitted, although he was sure it was probably pretty obvious at this point. “I’m more of a soccer fan.”

“Are you sure you’re Japanese?” Jun teased him.

“Yes,” Sho insisted, laughing softly through his embarrassment. “There’s nothing wrong with liking soccer. It’s the most popular sport in the world!”

Jun snorted and shook his head as he shot Sho a look that said otherwise. “I bet you like Beckham, too.”

“I’m a _real_ soccer fan,” Sho answered, his voice slightly offended. “I’d rather follow Ronaldo.”

“Who?” Jun asked, his voice curious as he moved a little closer to the other to avoid a group of young men stumbling out of a bar and right into his path, just drunk enough to be oblivious to everything and everyone around them.

“Cristiano Ronaldo,” Sho repeated, his mouth hanging open a little as Jun gave him a blank look. “He plays for Manchester United. He scored the second highest number of goals last year in the world cup qualifications.”

“… you’re definitely not Japanese,” Jun mumbled, shaking his head and laughing softly at the look that Sho was giving him. He sighed dramatically as he took advantage of their closeness and reached out to take Sho’s hand loosely in his own. “I can’t believe we’re friends.”

“I--,” Sho opened his mouth to start to protest and stopped, his cheeks flushing an embarrassing shade of pink as Jun wove their fingers together as they walked. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“No. Why?”

“I’m making you watch soccer with me,” Sho mumbled, grinning to himself as he gave Jun’s hand a light squeeze.

\--

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Jun groaned as he walked into the living room to find Nino already seated on his couch, wearing a knowing smile, his trademark deck of cards clutched in one hand.

“Good morning, Jun,” Nino called back, his voice entirely too chipper for so early in the morning. “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.”

Jun rolled his eyes and flopped into an armchair, purposefully seating himself as far from Nino as possible. “Is that supposed to be inspiring?”

“Like it?” Nino met Jun’s eyes across the coffee table with another infuriating grin. “I read it on a poster once.”

"Brilliant," Jun answered dryly. "I guess quoting posters at me is supposed to fix me? Why didn't I think of that?"

"I told you—I can't fix you. I'm just here to assist. The hard work you have to do yourself," Nino answered, leaning forward to set the deck of cards on the table between them.

"Then you must like wasting your time, because I don't _need_ your help," Jun answered, crossing his arms over his chest and giving the other a defiant look. It had been a week since Nino had wandered in here-- an entire week of Nino sitting on his couch every morning when Jun got up, and an entire week of Jun pointedly refusing to talk about anything. Jun didn't know what kind of boss Nino had, but whoever it was was obviously an idiot. There was no way having an employee spend an entire week sitting around watching variety TV while being blatantly ignored was productive; especially when it clearly wasn't getting him anywhere.

Nino just smiled at Jun and tapped the top of the deck of cards, one eyebrow carefully arched. "So you say. I thought we could change things up today."

"Getting tired already?"

"No, just bored. I thought we might make things more interesting," Nino drawled, an unspoken challenge in his eyes as they met Jun's. "We each draw a card from the deck. If you lose, you have to talk to me about the subject of my choice."

"And if _you_ lose?" Jun asked, voice haughty to hide his uneasiness. The chances that he or Nino would win had to be about dead even, but the thought of losing... well, from what he'd seen of Nino, he doubted the other had a sympathetic bone in his body.

"I won't," Nino answered with a smirk. "But if I do, I'll leave."

"Leave?" Jun repeated, arching one eyebrow. "For the day?"

"For good."

Jun swallowed, his gaze flickering down to the deck of cards and back up to meet Nino's eyes. "For good? Won't your boss have something to say about that?"

Nino shrugged, looking entirely too smug. It was enough to set Jun's teeth on edge and have his long dormant competitive streak suddenly trying to claw its way out.

"I told you, I won't lose."

"We'll see," Jun murmured, his voice low, a tone that anyone who knew him well would know to fear. For his part, Nino looked unfazed. "The card values are the same as in poker?"

Nino nodded, his smirk widening at Jun's submission. "Ace high, Joker is trump, suits doesn't matter."

"And if we tie?"

"We keep drawing until someone wins."

Jun nodded and glanced back at the cards. "Who goes first?"

"Be my guest," Nino murmured, waving his hand over the cards with flourish. It reminded Jun vaguely of the magician his mother had hired for his 9th birthday party. Jun put on his best poker face as he leaned forward and cut the deck, flipping it over to reveal the Ace of Hearts. He met Nino's eyes, his mouth curving into a smirk of its own.

"An ace. Not bad." Nino whistled, the sound somehow mocking as he leaned forward and cut the deck on his own. Jun was already celebrating inside of his own head when Nino turned his cards over to reveal a Joker sitting on top, smiling mockingly up at him. "... but not good enough. It looks like I win."

"What? You cheated," Jun sputtered, the reaction automatic as he continued to stare down at the card. There was no way that Nino's luck was that good. No one's luck was that good. "You did some sort of card trick...."

"No need to be a sore loser," Nino answered, his tone hurt, even as he leaned forward to gather up the cards with that same annoying, knowing smile on his face. "You shouldn't accuse someone of cheating unless you can prove it."

"Just because I can't prove it doesn't mean it's not true," Jun muttered, scowling at the smaller man.

Nino slipped the deck of cards back into his pocket and gave Jun a look. "But you can't, so I win. Now, let's see-- oh, yes, I get to pick what we talk about, don't I? Well, how about we talk about Sho."

Jun paled at the name, his face falling as he struggled to find some way out of this. Out of all the topics Nino could have picked, that was the one that he least wanted to talk about, and damned if Nino didn't know it. "Pick something else."

Nino shook his head. "Nope. I won, so I get to pick the topic, and I want you to talk about Sho."

Jun swallowed, sitting quietly for a long moment as he weighed his options. He'd learned over the past week that Nino was nothing if not persistent, and even if he found some way to get out of talking about this now, the other would bring it up again and again and again. Maybe if he got it over with Nino would be satisfied and never ask about it again. Maybe he'd even call it quits and leave him alone forever.

"Fine. What do you want to know?"

Nino leaned against the arm of the couch and gave Jun a triumphant look. "Let's start with the beginning."


	2. Chapter 2

Jun had never intended to start a romantic relationship with Sho. Well, not consciously, at least. He supposed, looking back on it, that there had always been a sort of niggling feeling in the back of his brain that hinted at the possibility, but he’d blatantly ignored it for as long as he could. By the time he’d finally acknowledged it, he’d already been so deep into the situation that there really was no turning back, even if he’d wanted to. Which he most definitely did not.

Sho was the first person outside of his family that Jun could remember being completely himself around, no putting on a good face or forcing himself to mold himself to fit the other’s expectations.

It was nice. Comfortable.

“I have no idea what’s going on,” Jun mumbled, one eyebrow arched delicately as he poked at the container of chinese takeout with his chopstick, digging around for anything that looked appetizing enough to eat. Beside him, Sho was fixated on the TV, his own container of takeout resting between his legs, forgotten in favor of the tiny black and white ball flying around the screen.

“Oh, come on, ref… that was clearly offsides!”

Jun turned his head, smirking to himself as Sho waved one hand at the tv, his brows drawn together in a frown. “Is your team losing?”

“Huh?” Sho mumbled, glancing at Jun quickly before looking back at the tv. “No, they’re tied—oh, come on! Pay attention, Foster. You should have had that one!”

“I don’t think they’re tied anymore,” Jun pointed out as he watched the ball fly into the net in slow motion, Sho looking more and more upset beside him each time they replayed the goal from a different angle.

“Well, they _would be_ if the goalie would pay attention,” Sho huffed, suddenly remembering the half-eaten container of sweet and sour pork in his lap and leaning forward to set it down on the coffee table with a bit more force than necessary. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the TV as he watched the seconds on the clock tick down.

Jun snorted and continued to poke at his food calmly, stealing glanced at Sho out of the corner of his eye.

“Watching baseball is never this stressful.”

“Yeah, because baseball is boring,” Sho mumbled under his breath, his eyes still fixed on the TV.

“Excuse me?” Jun gaped, his eyebrows arched in disbelief as he stared at Sho. For his part, Sho kept his eyes fixed on the TV, oblivious to anything and everything but the movements of the ball across the TV screen.

Jun sighed and leaned forward, grabbing one of the takeout containers and sitting back to pick through it for something good. He really had no idea what was going on with the game at this point, and he didn’t really care. Soccer was definitely not his cup of tea.

After a few minutes he leaned forward again, switching the picked-through container of food for another, picking through it for anything good and repeating the process with another new containr a few minutes later. After the third container, Sho’s eyes started to wander from the tv, stealing glances at Jun every time the other leaned forward.

There was a minute-thirty left on the clock when Jun leaned forward for his fourth container. Beside him, Sho sighed and turned to look at Jun, watching him pick through the leftover pork and vegetables.

“Jun… stop,” Sho mumbled, frowning as he watched Jun pop a water chestnut into his mouth. “That is really distracting.”

“What?” Jun asked, chewing slowly as he blinked up at Sho. “I’m just sitting here.”

“You keep moving,” Sho pointed out as Jun leaned forward to switch out food containers _again_.

Jun sat back and gave Sho a look. “I wasn’t trying to distract you on purpose. If I was, you’d know it.”

“Sorry just… it’s hard to pay attention when you’re moving around like that,” Sho murmured, stealing another glance at Jun out of the corner of his eyes.

Jun snorted softly and leaned forward to set the food aside. “Soccer obviously isn’t that interesting if that’s all it takes to distract you.”

“You’re shaking the couch.” Sho groaned internally at his explanation, wondering when he’d turned into his father. He remembered him saying the same thing to Sho when he was younger and they’d tried watching games together. Sho had never made it past half-time before he got kicked out of the room.

Sho felt Jun shift beside him again, the couch cushions shifting beneath him, and he turned to look at the other with a sigh. He opened his mouth to protest and ask if Jun could _please_ just sit still for five more minutes when he felt a hand on his shoulder and saw Jun smiling at him, their faces mere centimeters apart. He had just enough time to wonder why the other was so close before Jun leaned forward, brushing their lips together in a quick, chaste kiss.

Jun was still smiling as he pulled away, the look on his face one of smug satisfaction. “ _That_ was a distraction.”

Sho cheeks were red as he watched Jun settle back into the couch, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “You’re not allowed to watch soccer with me anymore.”

\--

Evening was just beginning when Ohno got home, having just come off a 12 hour shift and feeling every minute of it in his bones. His shoulders were slumped as he shuffled down the hallway towards his apartment, his expression weary as he dug his key out of his pocket. He enjoyed his new job, for the most part, but being an intern at a busy restaurant meant long hours and not a lot of recognition. The latter he didn't mind so much, since the learning experience was what he was there for, but the first tended to cut into the time he reserved for meals and sleep, and that did actually bother him. It wasn't that he couldn't do it, but if he was going to miss sleep or meals he preferred it to be because he'd lost track of time painting or fishing or doing something else that he loved.

He heard voices down the hall and couldn't help but turn, hand frozen in mid air, hovering around the doorknob. He usually wasn’t nosy when it came to his neighbors, but his weariness somehow made his curiosity greater, as if he couldn't fend it off when he was this tired. The door next to his opened, and an unfamiliar man spilled out, all lanky, long limbs and chestnut hair and pale skin. He was grinning as he stepped back, a smile so bright that Ohno felt the corners of his mouth twitching up in response just from looking at it.

"Sho-chan, you don't have a wear a tie. It's just dinner," he said, giggling as he reached out, tugging his companion out into the hall. The sound was low and breathy, a genuine happiness in it that you didn't hear in most people's laughter. There was something bright about him, cheerful, something that made you want to say hello and return the smile, even if it wasn't be directed at you.

"But it's a nice restaurant," his partner protested and Ohno blinked, recognizing his neighbor. He was frowning as he looked down at his shirt and tie, his apartment door hanging half open, forgotten behind him. There was that same slightly nervous tension in his frame that Ohno had seen when they'd met in the elevators or chatted at the mailboxes, but it seemed different, somehow. Maybe because the man that was with him seemed so oblivious to it.

"Sho-chan is so serious," the man chided, still giggling as he reached forward to tug at Sho's tie. The way he smiled and looked pleased with himself as he straightened it made Ohno smile a little, his ease a welcome contrast to the nervous tension in Sho's shoulders and the way he fidgeted a little at the touch. It made Ohno think of nights out with his best friend in High School, friendly pats on the back and the way they'd lean against each other while watching tv, without thinking. "You’re always trying to impress people. You shouldn't try so hard."

Sho blushed and swatted at the other's hand, his smile embarrassed. "I'm not," he insisted, his voice almost too soft for Ohno to hear as he looked away from his friend. His cheeks went a bit red as he caught sight of Ohno, guilt flitting across his face for a second before he forced a smile, the expression tight lipped and overly polite. It reminded Ohno of the smiles that you got from bank tellers or convenience store clerks, a sort of uncomfortable politeness born of necessity. "Ah... Ohno-san."

"Evening," Ohno mumbled, bowing his head a little and offering Sho a half-smile, unable to miss the way that Sho's eyes flitted guiltily to Ohno's apartment door before focusing on his face again. There was a slight pause, then, a moment of awkward silence where Sho's face went thoughtful, and Ohno found himself at a loss for what to say.

"Ah... Ohno. You're Sho-chan's new neighbor, right?" The other man broke the silence, stepping forward to offer Ohno a hand to shake, his smile wiping away the awkward atmosphere and making things seem suddenly lighter. "I've heard a lot about you."

"You have?" Ohno couldn't help but ask as he took the other's hand, smiling a little as their eyes met. Up close the man seemed even brighter, so full of life and energy that it practically spilled out of him, through his eyes and his smile and his soft, breathy laugh.

"Ah... Ohno-san, this is Aiba Masaki. My friend," Sho broke in, rubbing the back of his head as he gave Ohno an embarrassed smile. "You'll have to forgive him. He's like this with everyone, whether he knows you or not."

"Like this? What's that supposed to mean?" Aiba asked, giggling even as he tried to look offended. "You're such an old man sometimes."

Ohno laughed at the look that Sho gave Aiba in return. "I don't mind."

"See?" Aiba said, turning to give Sho a look, as if Ohno had just proven his point. "He doesn't mind if I'm friendly. People like it when you're friendly, Sho-chan. You should try it." He smiled then, a friendly affection in his gaze as he watched Sho try very obviously not to look embarrassed.

"I'm friendly," Sho mumbled, barely loud enough to hear, and Aiba turned to wink at Ohno.

Aiba just laughed and shook his head and patted Sho on the back, his gaze full of fondness and friendly affection. His hand lingered forgotten against Sho's back as he turned to look at Ohno, fingertips resting against the crisp material of Sho's shirt. "You should come over for dinner, sometime. Sho-chan's a terrible cook, but I promise to make him order takeout."

Ohno laughed softly and nodded, Sho's soft protest sounding half-hearted at best. Ohno didn't think he could really blame him. Aiba seemed like the type of person that it would be hard to say no to. "Sure."

"We'll have to make plans sometime, then," Aiba grinned, hand dropping from Sho's back. Ohno let his gaze drift over to Sho and caught the other man staring past him at the faded numbering on Ohno’s apartment door, his eyes distant. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Sho looked away under the pretense of checking his watch, his expression unreadable.

"It's almost 7. We should go so we don't miss the train." He didn't wait for Aiba's answer before he stepped around him, moving to close and lock his apartment door, leaving Aiba to end the conversation and say their goodbye.

"Ah... we have reservations at this really nice restaurant," Aiba explained, his expression almost apologetic. "It was nice meeting you, though, Ohno-san. We'll have to talk again soon."

"You, too," Ohno answered, nodding at them both as they moved past him towards the elevators, Aiba smiling and giving a short wave, and Sho nodding politely and not quite meeting his gaze. He watched them disappear down the hall for a moment before he turned to unlock his apartment door and stepped inside, hoping that he actually would be able to see them again soon.

"I'm home," he called out as he slipped off his shoes, still smiling slightly to himself, his earlier exhaustion all but forgotten. It was only when he heard the soft "welcome home" and turned to find Jun standing at the end of the entryway, staring at the door with a pinched look on his face, that his smile faded. It was dim in the entryway, but Ohno could still see the way Jun's brows furrowed as he turned away suddenly and headed towards his room, murmuring something about having work to do.

A frown replaced Ohno's smile as he stared after him, his expression thoughtful.

\--

Sho had never really been a big fan of drama, whether it was written or on screen or playing out in real life. He liked excitement, sure, and he liked it when things were interesting because, really, who didn’t, but drama was an entirely different matter.

He’d come from what most people would consider a normal family and had gone from a comfortable, relatively quiet childhood to an equally comfortable, relatively quiet adulthood, and that was the way he liked it. He couldn’t stand overly loud or emotional people, and he hated every overdone love story that he’d seen, on the large or big screen, especially if it was one that was meant to make you cry. He liked quieter, more subtle movies with storylines that unfolded slowly, revealing themselves so slowly that you didn’t fully realize what was happening until the ending credits had started to roll.

It made sense, in a way, then, that his relationship with Jun ended up doing that exact thing, building slowly around them both until one day when Sho stopped to think about it was already there, as much a part of his life as his daily commute or his weekly trip to the grocery store.

“I should go home soon.” Sho mumbled around a mouthful of ice cream, his tone implying just how much of a chore doing that would be. They’d eaten a big dinner and were currently enjoying an even bigger dessert, the tub of ice cream sitting between them on the couch as they paid half-attention to the late night crime drama on the tv.

“You could just stay the night,” Jun suggested around a mouthful of Rocky Road, his voice and attitude nonchalant.

“I just live down the hall,” Sho pointed out, laughing softly as he turned to give the other an indulgent look. “I think I can make it that far. I didn’t eat _that_ much pasta for dinner.”

Jun laughed with him, the sound slightly forced as he took another bite of ice cream. His voice was so soft when he finally spoke again that Sho almost didn’t hear him over the TV. “I know, but you still could, if you wanted to.”

“Stay the night?” Sho guessed, his expression slightly confused. “Why would I want to—“

Jun looked away from the ice cream just long enough to meet Sho’s eyes, the meaning behind his look significant enough that even Sho found himself hard pressed to misinterpret it. “Wait, you mean… oh. OH.”

Jun nodded once, twice, a slightly embarrassed smile forming on his lips as he sat the ice cream aside and reached over to take Sho’s spoon from his now trembling fingers. He rose from the couch and leaned in, taking Sho’s hand in his own as he whispered again. “Stay the night.”

Sho swallowed and nodded, his hand tightening around Jun’s as he let the other pull him off the couch and lead him into the bedroom.

\--

"Oh... Nino," Ohno blinked and smiled as he held the door open and motioned the other man into the apartment.

Nino smiled briefly as he slipped his shoes off, watching as Ohno closed the door behind him and disappeared into the apartment. His smile widened into a grin as he trailed behind Ohno, glancing into the empty living room before following the other into the kitchen. "So, that guy's still hiding in his room, huh?"

Ohno frowned slightly and nodded as he peeled potatoes over the sink. "I haven't seen him for a few days."

Nino nodded, humming thoughtfully as he leaned against the counter beside Ohno, watching the other's surprisingly deft fingers at work. "You know about what happened to him?"

"He overheard something," Ohno mumbled, shrugging as he sat the finished potato aside and picked up another. "It upset him."

"Not that," Nino corrected him, his eyes searching Ohno's face as he continued. "Last year. You know about what happened, don't you?"

Ohno's hands stilled as he turned his head to meet Nino's eyes, his gaze knowing. "Yes. My mom's good friends with Matsumoto-san."

Nino nodded, pursing his lips slightly. "She told you about it?"

"Some," Ohno admitted, his words slow and expression thoughtful.

"And the rest?" Nino asked, turning his gaze away to stare out into the kitchen.

Ohno shrugged and resumed peeling. "I just figured it out."

"Observant," Nino commented, grinning a little to himself. "You're more observant than most people, you know."

"I was born this way," Ohno answered with another shrug and a slight smile.

\--

For someone who was known for his flair, both when it came to fashion and food, Jun tended to be more attracted to the quieter, simpler side of things when it came to all other aspects of his life. His car was more practical than flashy, his apartment was spacious but homey and affordable, and his time off was more often than not spent curled up on his couch at home.

Maybe it was because there was so much flash that went into his wardrobe, or that, as someone who was paid to spend a good portion of his life in overpriced, stuffy restaurants, surrounded by their fake atmosphere, he craved something more quiet and real in his downtime.

Whatever the cause, he was definitely much happier curled up on his couch in sweatpants and a t-shirt with Sho than trussed up in one of his Armani suits, seated stiffly at a table in the latest and greatest restaurant in Ginza.

When Jun thought back on it, those rather unremarkable evenings spent at home were always the best.

“There is no way baseball is better than soccer,” Sho mumbled, his voice muffled as he buried his face against the side of Jun’s neck.

It was warm with Sho practically laying on him like this, a warmth that made Jun feel sated and lazy and relaxed in a way that he’d never really thought was possible. Jun sighed, running his fingers through Sho’s hair as he argued with him half-heartedly. “How would you know? You haven’t even watched any of the game.”

“I watched enough.” Sho sighed, his breath hot against Jun’s neck, sending a shiver down the younger man’s spine.

Jun was embarrassed by the hitch he could hear in his own breathing, and the way that his head tilted to the side to make room for Sho’s lips as the other started to scatter lazy kisses against his skin. “Hm… I don’t think so. You promised a whole game and it’s not even the bottom of the fourth….”

Sho chuckled, the sound soft and sleepy as he pressed closer, his lips moving a bit more deliberately against Jun’s skin. It was a bit cramped on the couch with both of them, but Jun found himself trying to press closer automatically, his body shivering as he felt Sho’s fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

He grunted, the sound soft and full of as much annoyance as arousal as he wound his fingers through Sho’s hair and urged the other’s face closer. “I’m trying to watch the game.”

Sho snorted and pulled back as much as he could manage with the grip that Jun had on his hair. “Then I guess I’ll let you watch.”

Jun frowned, turning his head to give Sho a dirty look. “Don’t you dare.”

Sho laughed, the sound low as he buried his face back against the side of Jun’s neck, fingers running along the other’s stomach playfully. Jun could feel the other’s lips curl into a smile against his skin and made a rather embarrassing noise in answer. “But you said you wanted to watch the game.”

“There are still three innings to go,” Jun mumbled, his fingers tightening in Sho’s hair as the other’s fingers inched their way up his chest. “I figure I’ll only be missing half an inning, tops.”

Sho laughed, the sound vibrating through his entire body and, by default, Jun’s. “I’m not sure if I should be insulted or not.”

“You should,” Jun answered, the breathy laugh following his words enough to take the sting out of them. “I guess you’ll just have to prove me wrong.”

“I guess so,” Sho answered, laughing softly as he pressed closer and accepted the other’s challenge.

\--

“Can we make this short today? I have work.”

“Well, good morning to you, too.” Nino smirked as Jun took a seat across from him, the look of disdain he  
wore on his face a bit more exaggerated than normal. “And you know the answer to that. It’s not up to me—“

“’It’s up to you’. Yes, I’ve heard it before,” Jun answered with a sigh and a bored look. “You say that, but when I don’t talk you just sit here all day, shuffling cards and making me feel guilty.”

“I don’t do anything to make you feel guilty,” Nino corrected, stuffing the aforementioned cards into his pocket and folding his hands across his lap. “I think you’re projecting.”

“Well, then, why don’t we talk about it?” Jun mumbled dryly.

“No, I have something else to talk about today,” Nino replied, his voice altogether too cheerful. Jun straightened a little in his chair and gave the other man a weary look. He hated it when Nino sounded cheerful. Nothing good ever came of it. “Let’s talk about Aiba.”

“What about him?” Jun asked, stiffening at the mention of the name.

“Who is he?”

“You know who he is,” Jun answered, frowning and shifting a little in his seat, very carefully looking anywhere but at Nino’s face. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have asked.”

“Maybe I want to know who he is to you,” Nino answered, and Jun didn’t have to look to know that he was smiling at him.

“He’s no one to me,” Jun answered, his words clipped, a bit sharper than intended.

“Humor me.”

Jun shifted again, his brows furrowed as he mumbled something fast and soft and completely inaudible.

“I didn’t catch that.”

“Sho’s boyfriend,” Jun snapped, lips drawn into a tight line as he lifted his head to glare daggers at Nino across the coffee table. “His new boyfriend.”

“Hm,” Nino answered, the sound dismissive, even as his expression softened. It only lasted a moment, but Jun still caught it before it disappeared beneath one of his infuriating smiles. “What if I told you they were just friends and there was no romantic interest there?”

“Then you’d be a liar,” Jun answered, some of the fierceness going out of his voice as he gave Nino a searching look, then mentally berated himself for it. “Why does it matter, anyway? Sho and I haven’t spoken since the accident.”

“It obviously matters to you,” Nino answered, something almost resembling understanding in his voice as he met Jun’s eyes.

“Sho can do whatever he wants.” Jun swallowed hard and looked away then, eyes drifting over to a dusty pile of magazines resting on a side table. “I don’t have any say over his life. I’m not even a part of it anymore.”

“Hm,” Nino answered again, pausing for a long moment—to actually gather his thoughts or simply for dramatic effect, Jun wasn’t sure, though he suspected the later—and then answered, simply, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

\--

By the time Sho had been living in his apartment for a year, he and Jun had already started to leave their mark on each other’s living spaces. Sho had an empty drawer at the bottom of his dresser that he let Jun keep a few odd pairs of pants and shirts in, for those mornings when they overslept or he was just too lazy to get up in time to wander back to his apartment to get ready for the day. Likewise, Jun had made extra space in his closet, leaving enough room for Sho to hang his suit on nights when he stayed over to keep it from getting wrinkled.

There were extra toothbrushes and razors and sticks of deodorant in each of their bathrooms, and small reminders scattered throughout the rest of their rooms—a stack of food magazines on Sho’s coffee table, a copy of the day’s paper with the soccer scores circled in Jun’s living room, a corkscrew crammed in the drawer that held Sho’s silverware. Neither of them really noticed any of these things, since at this point they just seemed to belong. It would have been probably been more noticeable, instead, if they’d suddenly been gone.

"Did you pack an extra tie? You want to be able to change it up if you're going to impress these guys. If you just take one tie they'll peg you for someone sent to do their boss's dirty work."

Sho smiled a little to himself as he settled back against the pillows on his bed, his suitcase lying open on the floor, a list of last minute items to pack before he left for his flight in the morning resting atop his stack of clean underwear and socks. He could hear Jun in the bathroom, rooting around in the medicine cabinet, no doubt sorting the bottles according the size and color and frequency of use.

"Yes, dear," Sho called back, his voice teasing. He didn't bother pointing out to Jun that he _was_ someone being sent out to do the boss's dirty work. Jun was acting more nervous about this trip than he was. "Now stop organizing my medicine cabinet and come to bed."

The rattling sounds stopped abruptly, and Sho heard the slight squeak of the hinges on the cabinet door as it closed. "I'm not. I have to take out my contacts."

Sho was carefully not to laugh out loud at the other. "Well, when you're done with that, then."

After a few more minutes and the familiar sounds that went along with Jun taking out his contacts and washing his face, the other emerged from the bathroom, glasses perched on his nose and his hair pulled back in a rather unattractive headband. Sho grinned at him and patted the bed next to him, not missing the glance that Jun threw his open suitcase and, more importantly, the list sitting just inside.

"You packed your briefcase already, right?"

"Yes. You watched me do it... and checked it over afterwards," Sho reminded him as he reached out to grab Jun's arm, tugging the other towards the bed. "Stop worrying. We'll check the list again in the morning."

"I'm not worried. I just know that you'd forget your head if it wasn't screwed on. Or if I wasn’t there to check it." Jun frowned but climbed onto the bed and under the covers beside Sho without any further protest. He was quiet for a long moment, his face thoughtful as he fluffed the pillows behind his head and arranged them just so, taking twice as long as usual.

Sho waited until it looked like he'd worked out some of his restlessness before reaching out to turn the other's face towards him and lean in for a quick kiss. "It'll be fine, Jun. I promise."

"Hm," Jun answered non-commitally, smiling weakly as he met Sho's eyes. "I guess even _you_ can't screw up too badly in three days. Even if you are meeting with one of your company's biggest clients...," Jun trailed off, his voice and smile growing playful.

Sho groaned and shook his head, the smile never leaving his face. "Thanks for reminding me. I'd forgotten completely."

Jun's smile turned to a full-fledged grin as Sho wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled them both down to settle against the pillows. He hummed softly in his throat and met Sho's eyes across the pillows, sliding an arm around his waist. "What will you do without me around?"

"Get a decent amount of sleep and watch soccer games in peace?" Sho answered, his face thoughtful.

Jun laughed and pinched the other's arm playfully. "Just for that, I expect you to call me every night and give me a play-by-play of your day."

"If you want me to call, you don't have to make up some lame excuse. I know you're going to miss me." Sho laughed, flinching as Jun pinched him again.

"Please. You're going to miss _me_. It's not like three days apart from you is going to kill me. I might actually get something productive done for once," Jun mumbled, smiling even as he rolled his eyes.

"We'll see who misses who," Sho teased as he rolled onto his side and pulled the other closer.

"Yeah, we'll see."

\--

“There’s one last thing we need to deal with.”

Nino’s voice was soft, almost gentle, but the words still made Jun apprehensive. Two blissful, Nino free days had passed since their last horrible conversation, but hoping for three had probably been too much to ask. He lowered his magazine to look up at the other man, his mouth drawn into a tight line and his eyes just a touch too wide with poorly concealed fear. He’d spent a year making it a point not to think about any of these things, and he wasn’t so sure after the last few things that they’d talked about that he wanted to go any further. “I thought you said I was making progress.”

“You are.”

“Then why do I need to deal with anything? I’ve done enough for now, haven’t I?”

“The point of progress is to keep moving forward,” Nino explained in that same hushed tone. Jun preferred Nino’s sarcasm to this, this… understanding. This pity.

Jun swallowed, his throat tight as he met Nino’s eyes, silent as he ran a list of excuses through his head. He knew that none of them were valid, really, and that Nino was right. He’d dealt with small things, made some progress, but they all amounted to nothing if he didn't take this last final step and face the one thing he’d been avoiding for this past year.

A year. He turned his head and glanced at the calendar, eyes running over Ohno’s hasty scribbles until his eyes fell on the date. It was exactly one year today.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping a little as he turned to meet Nino’s eyes. “I’ll get my coat.”

\--

It was a mild April day, but Jun was bundled up as if against the cold, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat and his face half-hidden by a scarf. Despite the warmth of the day and the faint scent of flowers on the air, Jun couldn't help but feel hollow as he walked silently beside Nino, careful to avoid brushing up against any of the crowd flowing around them. He pushed his face further into the scarf and breathed in deeply, focusing on it and Nino at his side as he fought the urge to run.

The scarf was alpaca wool, soft and exotic and dyed a brilliant shade of red that stood out in a stark contrast against the paleness of his skin. It smelled faintly of dust and mothballs and disuse, and he wrinkled his nose, trying to remember the last time he’d worn it. It was over a year ago, back before things shifted, when the world was still bright. There was a movie to see and Sho beside him, waiting patiently in line while Jun shivered in the cold.

“What is taking so long?”

“It’s opening night.” Sho’s voice was soft and amused as he watched Jun shift from foot to foot beside him, his very fashionable, but woefully thin, name brand coat doing very little to keep out the cold.

Jun huffed, his breath a soft white cloud as it drifted in the air between them. He frowned, wishing for once that Sho wasn’t quite so right _all_ the time. “Yeah, well… everyone didn’t have to come to the 7 o’clock showing. There are plenty of others.”

Sho just laughed softly, his breath escaping him in puffs of white that drifted outwards to mix with Jun’s breath between them. He watched Jun continue to shift uncomfortably, his frown deepening as the line continued not to move and the air around them just seemed to get colder.

Jun was just thinking that the movie had better damn well be worth frostbite when he felt something around his neck, a soft warmth that hadn’t been there seconds before. He looked down to see familiar red wool, and suddenly Sho was standing in front of him, his hands looping the scarf around Jun’s neck a bit clumsily.

He reached up as Sho took a step back to eye his handy work, his fingers running over the surprisingly soft, well-loved wool of the scarf. He could still feel Sho’s heat on it and smell the faint scent of his shampoo and aftershave. “Sho, I—aren’t you cold without this?”

Sho grinned and shook his head at him, that infuriating know-it-all grin that Jun secretly loved. “I wore a real winter coat.”

Jun glared at him half-heartedly for the comment. “Too bad it went out of style 3 years ago.”

“Then maybe I should take my scarf back. It’ll make my jacket less offensive,” Sho shot back as the line finally started moving, the look on his face saying that he had no intention of doing so.

“No, I look better than you with or without the scarf, so you might as well just leave it,” Jun mumbled, burying his face a little deeper into the scarf and inhaling deeply.

“Maybe you should just keep it, then.”

It was a joke, but Jun found himself nodding anyway, his smile hidden behind deep red wool as he answered, “Maybe I should.”

Jun smiled at the memory, his face still half-buried in the scarf a Nino stopped in front of him. He moved to stand beside him, his eyes following as Nino lifted a hand silently and pointed out at the road in front of them.

Jun stared out at it, his smile slowly fading.


	3. Chapter 3

The day of Jun’s accident had started out pretty unremarkably. He’d gotten up, had breakfast, taken a conference call from one of his magazine’s European offices, and then had spent an hour editing the first draft of a review for a new three star Italian-style restaurant in Shibuya before sending it off to his publisher.

It had seemed like a normal day, but, then again, if he stopped to really think about it, every day that ended up being important in his life had started out that way.

The only really significant thing about the day at all was the fact that it was the day that Sho was set to arrive home from his business trip, and Jun was maybe more than a little excited about it. He didn’t even mind having to make the drive the airport to get him, a drive which he usually avoided at all costs, opting to take the train when he had to catch a flight of his own. It had just seemed like the right thing to do, though, picking Sho up after his first business trip abroad. It was like a congratulations, in a way.

Jun was so excited about it that he couldn’t even be that annoyed when his mother called him five minutes before he was set to step out the door, and decided to launch into a lengthy, one-sided conversation.

"Yeah... no. No," Jun made all the appropriate responses to his mother's questions, balancing his phone on his shoulder as he closed the door to his apartment and locked it behind him before hurrying down the hallway. He glanced at his watch as he pressed the button for the elevator, his mother's voice still coming in a constant stream over his phone. She was relaying a story about his cousin Yoshihiro's son (a thinly veiled hint that Jun should find a nice girl to settle down with so that his mother wasn’t the only grandchildless one, he thought; if it wasn't incredibly rude and his mother wouldn't have denied it anyway, he would have pointed out that his sister was just as capable of having children and she, unlike him, was actually _engaged_ already).

Jun sighed as the elevator chimed and the doors opened slowly in front of him. "Mom? Yeah, sorry to interrupt... yeah, I love hearing about Yoshihiro's son. No, it's just I promised a friend I'd pick him up at the airport. No... no, not Shun. Sho, the guy who lives next door. The Keio graduate... yeah, he had a business trip."

Jun reached out, glad that the elevator was empty as he held the door open, waiting for his mother to finish.

"Sure. I'm sure he'd love to come over for dinner sometime. I'll tell him you invited him. Yes... Mom, I really need to go now. I'm already running late." Jun smiled in spite of himself as he waited for his mother to finish up her long-winded goodbye.

"Yes, Mom. Tell Reina I said 'hi'. I'll see you both at dinner next week, okay?" Jun waited for his mother to say goodbye one last time, making sure to make another not-so-subtle hint that someone Jun's age should really be looking to settle down and slipping in a mention about the neighbors' single daughter in the process, then hung up the phone.

The drive to the airport really wasn't that bad, as far as drives went. It was just early enough that rush hour hadn't hit yet, and the sun was pleasantly warm through his open windows, but the breeze still cool enough that he didn't need to bother with the air. His mother hadn't tried to call back yet, surprisingly enough, leaving him alone with the soft, thrumming bass coming through his car speakers and his thoughts.

Half an hour into the drive, his phone started to buzz in his pocket, drawing a sigh out of Jun. By the time he'd dug it out of his coat pocket it had already stopped ringing, the telltale flashing light on the front telling him that he'd have a rather lengthy voicemail waiting for him when he got home.

"Later," he mumbled to himself as he threw the phone onto the seat and turned his attention back to the road.

When Jun looked up, the truck was already turning in front of him, and he could hear the sound of metal on metal as they collided before he even had time to stop and think about hitting his brakes.

\--

Sho had gotten home later than planned that evening, engine troubles and an unexpected layover pushing his arrival time well past midnight. He’d called to leave Jun a message when he had the chance, not wanting him to spend his time waiting and worrying at the airport for him. He’d been mostly relieved when Jun hadn’t been there to pick him up from the airport, glad that at least one of them hadn’t wasted most of their day in airport terminals drinking bitter coffee and eating stale sandwiches.

He decided to splurge and catch a taxi home after he realized he’d missed the last train, and he actually managed to get home sometime before 3, at that point to tired to do more than strip down to his boxers and fall into bed for a few hours of well-deserved sleep.

The next day was rather miserable, full of long, boring meetings and lots of relaying information about his trip to his bosses, who had all been too lazy to go on said trip.

By the time he managed to slip out of the office, all he wanted to do was have a long meal, a hot bath, and maybe slip over afterwards to see Jun.

Sho had his phone out in his hand, frowning a little at the lack of messages as he climbed onto the elevator, nodding distractedly at the pair of women who climbed in beside him.

“It’s a shame, isn’t it,” he heard the first woman say, her voice taking on that low stage whisper that women her age got when they were sharing gossip and didn’t mind if anyone else happened to overhear. “About that boy.”

Sho could see the second woman nodding as he slipped his phone into his pocket, her face solemn as he spoke in the same not-quiet hushed tone. “I never spoke to him, personally, but he always seemed well put together for someone that young.”

“These things always happen to the good ones, don’t they?” Her friend sighed, the sound so exaggerated that Sho would have laughed if he’d had the energy. “Well, at least they said it was quick. My nephew—you know, Atsuhiro, the police sergeant—he was there, and he said there was barely anything left of the car, let alone him.”

“Probably dead before he knew what had happened,” her friend murmured, clucking her tongue in sympathy.

Sho winced a little beside them, feeling guilty for his earlier urge to laugh and for whoever it was that they were talking about. He almost sighed in relief when the elevator jerked to a stop beneath them and the doors opened out onto his floor. He slid around the women and out the doors without really looking at them, and just happened to catch one last snippet of their conversation as the elevator closed behind him.

“This was his floor, wasn’t it? I think someone said he lived in 404.”

Sho froze, his eyes automatically seeking out the faded gold numbering on Jun’s apartment door.

\--

Jun blinked, posture stiff as he stood there beside Nino, staring out at the road. The atmosphere surrounding them was almost expectant as Jun struggled with the memories and then, as suddenly as if someone had flipped a switch inside of him, he knew.

“Dead. I’m dead.” The words were hushed, flat, nothing more than a simple statement of fact as Jun stared out into traffic, Nino a silent presence beside him. He thought that this was the part where he probably should have been screaming, crying, pleading with somebody, anybody for a second chance. He should have been angry, sad—some other strong emotion, the kind you saw in those dramas that they aired late at night, full of too much makeup and bad acting, where someone inevitably fell in love or died too young.

Instead he was… stunned. Shocked. Empty.

Jun laughed, the sound dull and humorless as he stared out at the street, the normal, average looking intersection where this had all started over a year ago. “I’ve been dead since that day, haven’t I?”

Nino stirred beside him, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his oversized coat with a slow nod.

“I don’t remember.”

“You were dead before anyone even had time to think to call an ambulance,” Nino explained, his voice matter-of-fact, as if he were discussing the weather or a political scandal, and not the way the man currently standing beside him had died.

“I don’t remember,” Jun repeated, his shoulder’s slumping a little as he tried to recall something, anything. He could remember his phone in his hand, looking up just in time to see the truck in front of him, a vague sense of impact and then… nothing. He knew he was dead but he didn’t remember _dying_. “Shouldn’t I remember something like that?”

“It’s best if you don’t,” Nino answered, shrugging as he turned his head to look at Jun, the calmness of his expression making it all seem so very normal. “Trust me. It never goes well for the ones that do.”

Jun nodded, Nino’s words somehow making sense. The past year had been hard, but knowing, remembering this really wouldn’t have changed things. “So, Sho… that’s why. He can’t see me, can he?”

“No, he can’t.”

“But Ohno can?” Jun mumbled, already knowing the answer to the question. Sho could see Ohno, so he couldn’t be dead. But Ohno could see him, talk to him… probably could touch him if he wanted to. For the first time, Jun wished he’d been more into ghost stories as a kid. This might have all made more sense, then.

“He has the gift, and you’re stronger than most.”

“Stronger than most?”

“Ghosts.”

“Oh,” Jun mumbled, turning away from traffic finally to meet Nino’s eyes. He smiled, the expression resigned, a little bit sad. “I would be a convincing ghost, wouldn’t I?”

Nino smiled back, chuckled lowly in the back of his throat and shook his head. “Yeah, you would.”

Stubborn. His mother and sister had always called him stubborn. Sho had teased him about being strong willed, said that he couldn’t imagine Jun doing anything unless it was on his own terms. They were all right, in the end.

\--

"I hope tea's alright. I'm out of coffee," Sho apologized as he sat the cup in front of his guest, then took a seat in the chair, his hands smoothing his pant legs over his thighs in an unconscious nervous gesture.

"Tea is fine," she assured him, smiling as she reached for the cup and took a polite sip before setting it aside.

Sho continued to stare at her, hands curling around his knees and he tried to think of something to say, some polite topic like the weather that would dispel some of the uneasiness between them. He was normally good at these types of situations, forced politeness and niceties, but he found himself too caught off guard by his sudden, unexpected visitor this time.

Even if she hadn't introduced herself as Jun's sister when he'd first opened his door, he would have known who she was, the resemblance between the two of them just enough to make her recognizable, even when Sho had never seen her before outside of snapshots and family pictures. It was the way she held herself, the way her lips moved when she spoke, the slight curve to her cheek and the way her eyelashes framed her dark, wide set eyes. It made Sho wonder if it was where Jun had gotten it from, that way of holding his head when he spoke to you or that hidden shyness that wouldn't allow him to quite meet your eyes when he was uncomfortable.

Sho cleared his throat, shifting a little against the chair as he struggled for the right words. "It's nice to finally meet you, Matsumoto-san."

"You, too." She smiled, her shoulders relaxing a little as she met his eyes, and Sho was glad that he'd spoken first. "My brother mentioned you a lot. He didn't talk about friends much."

Sho smiled and nodded slightly, his expression a little strained as Jun's name hung in the air around them, unspoken. "He talked about you a lot, too... about all his family."

She smiled at that, and made a soft sound of assent, sadness creeping in around the corners of her mouth as she reached down for the bag at he feet and drew out a box, holding it out to Sho in offering. "I'm sorry I showed up so suddenly, but I wanted to give you this."

"Thank you," he answered automatically, frowning a little as he took it and rested it in his lap uncertainly.

"We went through some of his things," she explained, her voice soft and steady, even though he could see her fingertips trembling slightly as she folded her hands back against her knees. “We’re keeping the rest in his apartment for now. My mother can’t stand the idea of getting rid of any of it.”

He nodded, not trusting his voice as he looked from her back to the box in his lap and opened the lid slowly, chest tightening as the scent of Jun's cologne hit him. He could see the familiar shape of Jun's cologne bottle in one corner and the bright tangle of his necklaces, the familiar glint of the rings that Sho had always teased him about when he wore, and he shut the lid quickly, breathing through his mouth to avoid the scent of Jun hanging in the air around him. "Matsumoto-san--"

"Reina. Please."

"Reina-san," he corrected himself, his hands curling around the edges of the box almost protectively as he met her eyes. He opened his mouth to protest, to insist that these were things that belonged to Jun's family, but he found the words sticking in his throat. He swallowed and tried again. "... thank you."

"You're welcome," she murmured, giving him a knowing look, and he couldn't help but wonder how much Jun had talked about him, how much she knew about the reality of their relationship. He brushed it aside, though, knowing that it really didn't matter one way or the other now. She reached back into the bag then and drew out an envelope, laying it on the coffee table between them.

Sho was almost afraid to look at it, but found his gaze drawn to it anyway, taking in the tiny, precise lettering. It was addressed to the Matsumoto family, but the sender's name was unfamiliar, one that he didn't recall ever hearing Jun talk about or seeing written anywhere before.

"Jun wanted to be an organ donor," she explained before he could ask, her voice catching a little on her brother's name.

“Aiba Masaki,” Sho read the sender’s name off the envelope with a slight frown.

“The boy who got his heart,” Reina explained softly.

“Oh,” Sho whispered, unsure what else to say. He stared at the letter a moment longer before he lifted his eyes again to meet hers, his own wide and confused. "This letter is for Jun's family."

"You're a part of Jun's family, too," she insisted softly.

Later, after they'd both finished their tea and exchanged polite goodbyes, when he was once again alone in the apartment, he'd rested the box unopened in his lap and finally, reluctantly, let himself accept the truth.

\--

“Shouldn’t I be gone by now? Now that I know… shouldn’t I move on, or whatever it is that happens?”

“This isn’t a movie,” Nino answered with a soft laugh, the sound more gentle than mocking, and Jun couldn’t help but wonder how many times he’d had this conversation before. “Angels aren’t going to come and whisk you away. You aren’t going to be swallowed up by some bright light. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Then what happens now?” Jun murmured, his throat tight as he met Nino’s eyes.

Nino shrugged, his face almost thoughtful. “That depends on you, really. This is your story, Jun, your life—or death, as it were. The rest is up to you.”

“So, if I wanted to--,” Jun began, his eyes almost hopeful as he continued. “I could stay?”

Nino nodded once, a sad smile forming on his face. “You could. Some do.”

“And Sho—“

“No,” Nino cut him off, his smile dying. “He won’t see you, no matter how long you stay. He can’t. Some things can’t be changed.”

“There’s no way… not even with Ohno? Couldn’t he do something? Couldn’t you?”

“No,” Nino whispered, shaking his head slowly, his expression endlessly patient as he watched Jun, waiting for it all to sink in. “You’re dead, Jun. You can stay or you can go, but either way you’ll still be dead. Nothing Ohno or I can do will change that.”

Jun nodded, his face falling a little.

“You’re not Patrick Swayze, you know. All the things you’ve seen in movies and read in books—it’s all just fiction. Sho won’t see you again because he can’t. The best you can do is to say goodbye.”

“But he won’t hear it,” Jun mumbled, his voice resigned.

“Not the way you want him to, no.”

Jun stared down at his lap, his mind churning, trying to think of ways around this even though he knew, rationally, that he wouldn’t find any. This wasn’t the type of thing that you could bend the rules for.

He tried to imagine another year like this, another three, a lifetime of Sho sleeping on the other side of the wall but still a world away, untouchable. The thought of leaving everything behind was terrifying, but the thought of staying and being trapped like this forever was almost worse.

“I don’t really have a choice.” Jun straightened his shoulders and met Nino’s eyes.

“You always have a choice,” Nino pointed out with another small smile. “And I can’t make it for you.”

\--

Sho turned his head slightly, stealing a glance at the man seated beside him, silent and peaceful and not at all what he’d pictured in his head. He’d read the letter from Aiba to Jun’s family over and over, so many times that if he closed his eyes right now he could picture it in his head perfectly, call to mind the way the kanji all started to trail upwards slowly further down the page; he’d thought that reading the letter over and over until he managed to work up the courage to actually contact Aiba had given him a good idea of just who it was he’d be meeting today.

The letter was polite, grateful, reassuring. He’d known, reading it, that Aiba would be considerate, but he hadn’t expected the warmth and energy and the simple sense of comfort that he held in reality. He hadn’t expected Aiba to be so kind and gracious, or so eager to talk and to learn more about Sho—or about Jun, even. Somewhere in his head he’d convinced himself that Aiba was grateful for the gift he received, but he couldn’t possibly care to know more about the person he’d received it from. Sho knew that, if their situations were reversed, he wouldn’t have wanted to know.

But Aiba had. He’d talked about himself and asked questions about Sho and, eventually, about Jun, the sincerity in his voice enough to make Sho answer, hesitantly at first, and speak about things that he’d made a point to avoid over the course of the last few months. It had hurt, some of it, but it had felt incredibly good, too, being able to talk about Jun, to remember things that he’d tried very hard not to think about.

Aiba turned to meet his eyes, lips curving upwards into a warm smile. Sho met his gaze and smiled back, the expression hesitant but genuine.

“I’m glad you came today.”

Sho’s smile widened at that, grew a little embarrassed as he turned away with flushed cheeks. “Ah… I’m glad you wanted to meet. It had to be weird for you, just having someone call you out of the blue like that.”

“I don’t mind,” Aiba insisted, laughing quietly under his breath, the sound soft and soothing. It was nothing like Jun’s laugh, lower and breathier. Aiba’s laughter seemed unconscious, almost as natural as breathing, where Jun’s had been rare, something that only managed to make it past his guard on occasion, but was all the more special for it when it did. It was different, but it still made Sho think of Jun. Aiba would have made Jun laugh. “It’s nice, talking to you like this. I’ve always wondered what he was like.”

“He would have liked you,” Sho mumbled without really thinking, but was glad he had when he saw the smile it brought to Aiba’s face.

“You two were close?” Aiba asked, still smiling as he turned away to stare out the window at the busy mid-day street outside. Sho nodded, unsure if Aiba had seen it or not, but the other continued anyway. “I wish I could thank him. But talking about him like this with you is good, too. It’s so easy to forget all the happy times you have with someone unless you talk about them.”

“Yeah,” Sho said, his voice so quiet that he doubted the other could hear him. He swallowed around the lump in his throat and reached out for his cup of coffee, long grown cold, and let the soft sounds of the coffee shop fill the silence between them.

After a long moment Sho looked up again to find Aiba watching him silently. Sho smiled at him, the expression tired but genuine. “Thank you.”

\--

Jun had never been a morning person. He hated the sound of his alarm, the heavy feeling in his head as he rolled out of bed, the knowledge that he’d be spending yet another day running around, trying to get too much done in too little time.

It seemed strange, then, that out of all his memories with Sho, the ones that he thought of the most often involved early mornings. It wasn’t often that Jun woke up before Sho, but when he did he’d always found himself laying there, watching the steady rise and fall of Sho’s chest, captivated by the way the early morning light filtered through the blinds, lighting the other’s hair, caressing the line of his jaw and highlighting the angles of his face. He liked the way that Sho looked when he slept, the way he seemed completely at peace, liked the way his hand always ended up on Jun’s pillow, fingers tangled loosely in the ends of Jun’s hair while they slept. It made Jun feel safe and normal and completely and utterly happy.

It was these moments that Jun knew he was going to miss the most. Not because they were sweeping or profound—they never involved declarations of undying love or promises of forever. They never ended in anything more than Sho waking up, offering Jun a sleepy smile and running a hand through his hair before they got up to start their day. But they were real and somehow perfect in their simplicity.

Jun’s eyes were sad as he lingered in the doorway, watching the steady rise and fall of Sho’s chest, the right side of the bed—his side of the bed—noticeably empty. He wondered if Sho had slept on that side of the bed at all in the past year, if it was a conscious decision to keep it empty. He wondered how much longer Sho would keep on doing that, sleeping on only half the bed and leaving the other half open out of respect or sadness or the need to remember.

He wished that there was some way to go back, to relive just one morning waking up beside Sho, one brief moment opening his eyes to find the other there, one sleepy smile shared between the two of them.

He swallowed, his throat tight as he crossed the room and sank down onto the bed. The mattress didn’t move as he sat, didn’t dip even the slightest beneath his weight as it should have, serving as just another reminder that this was all real, that he was dead. There was no body to anchor him to this place anymore, nothing more than memory and stubborn will keeping him here.

Sho let out a soft sigh in his sleep, murmuring something. Jun smiled, the expression bittersweet as he watched the other’s eyelids twitch.

“I’ll miss this,” he murmured, his voice a bit too loud in the empty room. It wasn’t as if anyone else would hear him, as if even Sho could really hear him, but he found himself flinching anyway and dropping his voice until his next words came out as barely more than a whisper. “I’ll miss you. Even if you are a cover hog and you have terrible taste in wine and you chew with your mouth open.”

He laughed a hollow laugh and reached down, brushing his fingertips over the other’s hair. They tingled at the touch, a cold, almost electric jolt going through them, but beneath him Sho didn’t stir or give any indication he’d felt anything at all.

“I guess it wouldn’t have worked out anyway, would it? I mean, I’d never have been able to like soccer,” Jun laughed, the sound soft and raspy as he pulled his hand back to himself, resting it in his lap, his fingertips still tingling. “ But it was good while it lasted.”

Sho twitched in his sleep then, murmuring something beneath his breath as he reached over, hand curling against the empty pillow beside him.

Jun smiled sadly as he leaned in, letting his lips hover over Sho’s temple as he kissed the empty air between them and then rose from the bed, walking out of the room without allowing himself a backwards glance.


	4. Epilogue

Nino had his hands thrust into his pockets, his shoulders relaxed and lips curled into a half-smile as he wandered down the path that wound through the park, enjoying the mid-afternoon sun on his face and the snatches of conversation he could catch from the people around him. The park was unusually busy for late September, the unusually warm day luring the people in for picnics and afternoon strolls, smiles on their faces as enjoyed the last traces of summer, ignoring the leaves that were already starting to turn overhead.

Nino loved days like this, when everything was so full of life and hope and promise. He loved just wandering around, surrounded by happiness, even if he wasn’t a part of it.

It wasn’t much later that he came across a lone man sitting on a park bench, shoulders slightly hunched as he doodled on a pad of paper, and, smiling, took a seat beside him. They were both silent for a moment, Nino content to stare out across the park and the other man lost in the movement of his pencil across the page. Nino had already started to drift into his own thoughts a little himself, lulled by the soft scratching of pencil on paper, when the other man turned, finally, and spoke.

“I wondered if I’d see you again.”

Nino grinned and turned his head to meet the other’s eye. “Missed me that much?”

The other man smiled a little and shrugged in answer. “The apartment feels really empty sometimes.”

“Hm,” Nino agreed, nodding a little as he leaned over to steal a look at the page, the rough pencil sketches staring back up at him. “That guy sure made an impression, didn’t he?”

The other man nodded, resting his pencil against his knee. “He did.”

Nino sighed, the sound drawn out and slightly exaggerated as he slumped against the back of the bench. “They usually aren’t that stubborn. Dealing with him was actually a challenge.”

The man beside him grinned. “Yeah, I miss him, too.”

Nino snorted. “No other ghosts hanging around to keep you company?”

“None that are any fun,” the man admitted, turning his head to stare out at the park. “What about you?”

“Same old, same old,” Nino answered, a bored look on his face. “But I’m used to it.” He shrugged and continued, his voice far too non-chalant. “How’s everything else?”

“Good,” the other answered, turning his head to glance at a pair of men standing in front of a nearby ice cream stand, one all smiles and laughter and the other with an uncertain set to his mouth as he fished money out of his wallet. “You should come visit, sometime.”

“Maybe the next time I get a vacation,” Nino answered, his voice soft and playful. The pair from the ice cream stand turned and were heading towards them, cones clutched in hand.

The smiley one stopped in front of the bench and offered the man a cone. “I talked Sho-chan into getting us extra scoops this time, Oh-chan.”

Ohno took the cone and smiled, stealing a sideways glance at Sho, who was currently frowning down at the bench beside him. “Who were you talking to?”

Ohno looked over at the now empty bench beside him and smiled. “Just a friend.”

Sho frowned deeper and shook his head a little, deciding not to mention that, as far as he had seen, the bench had always been empty.

“Someday you’ll have to introduce us to your friends,” Aiba teased as he took a seat beside Ohno and started attacking his ice cream in earnest.

Beside him, Ohno just smiled.


End file.
